I held off from getting a tattoo for a long time, because I wanted to be sure about what I was going to get. I think also, if I’m being honest, I was a little afraid that my parents would follow through with their threat of ceasing to pay for my schooling.

I really wanted to make sure though that whatever it was I was putting on my body would always have meaning to me, that I would always want it in my life, and that I would be okay with explaining to my kids how their mama was a little bit wild.

When my husband Micah and I got married we talked a lot about getting matching tattoos (we still might), but I really wanted something that was uniquely mine.

Around my 25th birthday
I decided that it was now or never.

For the next few months I really explored the idea of an anchor with some script, something simple yet pretty, on my foot. Then Micah was laid off. Everything was put on hold as I couldn’t afford to pay a calligrapher.

During Micah’s unemployment the thought of hope really resonated with me.

While researching the symbolism, I found that an anchor not only was symbolic of hope, but was a sign that the early Christians used to symbolize the cross.

One day at work I stumbled across Hebrews 6:19 “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain,” and I thought “yes, today I’m getting my tattoo.” I called Micah and told him we were going to Big Brain after work. I came in without an appointment during a snowstorm, but squeezed me in. After 5 minutes of “bee stings” the rest is history.

I absolutely love my tattoo.
I love the daily reminder it provides me with, to always walk in hope.

I love that I will have it forever and that it is a part of me. I love that it will always remind me of the past memories of my marriage and that it will continue to have relevance throughout my life.